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Ding dong!

I shuffled between the stacks of half-unpacked cartons that littered the living room of my new house in the cul-de-sac on 43rd avenue to answer the door. “Must be the welcome wagon,” I thought.

When I opened the door, two women stood there. I smiled at the first one, a slightly overweight and rather plain-looking brunette.

She smiled back at me. “Sorry to interrupt your unpacking,” she said.

“No problem. I’m due for a break anyway.”

“I’m Cindy from next door and this,” she indicated the woman with her, “is Colleen from across the street.”

I’m sure my breathing stopped for a moment. My heart probably skipped a beat, too. I’m not entirely sure. All conscious thought stopped. Colleen was gorgeous. About five foot six, shoulder length blond hair, maybe a hundred and twenty pounds, beautiful smile and she looked like she’d been poured into her jeans. Our gazes met and stayed on each other for the entire conversation even though Cindy did most of the talking.

“I’m Mark,” I stammered. ...

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